


a new wind blows

by vampyrekat



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alternate Universe - Female Gleb, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, But it's vintage lesbians which I've been told is popular, F/F, I wasn't sure how to properly tag a genderbent ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-02-06 14:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12819711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampyrekat/pseuds/vampyrekat
Summary: “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she finished, her voice even like she was calming a spooked horse, but there was a quiver to it that was out of place. A policewoman shouldn’t be nervous around a street sweeper; it went against the natural order of the streets.Galina Vaganova meets a street sweeper; Anya meets a policewoman. It all sounds so deceptively simple that way.





	1. Meeting

A loud crack drove Anya to her knees, and she must’ve been imagining the too-red spray of blood across the snow, but she had seen blood-splattered white before. Her eyes were fixed on the ground and the rest of the world seemed very far away as she tried to pursue the memory into the dark reaches of her mind. _Blood splattered across a white fabric, after the crack -_ someone was speaking but it wasn’t important -  _what had that white fabric been? To thick for sheets - ?_

 _“--_ a truck backfiring, that’s all it was _,"_ filtered through the distance between reality and Anya, and she blinked slowly. There was no blood on the snow, but the image lingered in her mind, and she couldn’t place it, even as the woman's voice continued. “Those days are over, neighbor against neighbor -”

A hand touched her shoulder and Anya threw herself backwards, her back hitting the snowy pavement and knocking the wind from her. She lifted her broom - which, as it turned out, was gone, so she lifted her hands - to shield her face and throat while trying to gauge her would-be attacker. The young woman who had touched her was frozen with one hand outstretched, Anya’s broom in her other hand. Anya glanced up at the woman’s face and then glanced at her broom again - it was her livelihood and her defense and she wanted it _back_ \- and realized what the olive green coat currently splayed across the snow meant.

Anya hadn't survived this long by attracting the attention of the police. She felt her shivering - and there was no telling how long she'd been shaking - redouble. The policewoman, for her part, had frozen, her eyes wide with some mix of shock and concern. She hadn’t moved in the handful of moments, still kneeling with her hand still outstretched.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she finished, her voice even like she was calming a spooked horse, but there was a quiver to it that was out of place. A policewoman shouldn’t be nervous around a street sweeper; it went against the natural order of the streets. She slowly moved her hand, no longer to touch but now to help, and Anya let herself be helped into a sitting position. “We are all comrades now,” she said, clearly falling back on what she had learned for her job, “and -” She glanced over Anya again. “You’re shaking,” she commented gently. “There’s a tea shop just steps from here -”

“Thank you.” Anya scrambled to her feet, trying to brush the snow from her clothes. Tea sounded wonderful, but she was working and there were a hundred reasons not to go to tea with an officer. The policewoman rose to her feet as well, the coat settling back around her and making her just another officer on the streets. She held out the broom, but when Anya tried to grab it and leave, the woman didn’t let go. She was taller than Anya and immovable, even when Anya tugged on the broom again. Instead, she cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowed with the suspicion Anya had fought so hard to avoid from the police.

“What’s your hurry?” she asked conversationally.

“I can’t lose this job,” Anya said honestly. “They’re not easy to come by.” The invitation was tempting, but with an officer and when she should’ve been working? It would be double suicide, to lose the goodwill of the other sweepers and to lose her job in one fell swoop. But the woman had relaxed at her explanation, and looked no longer suspicious and simply regretful. And it had been a very kind invitation. “But thank you,” Anya added, with a smile. _I wish I could_ , she didn’t say.

She pulled the broom and this time the policewoman relinquished it without struggle, letting Anya reclaim it and start to walk away. She’d work on the other side of the street now, away from whatever had just happened, and she was halfway across the street when the policewoman shouted, “I’m here everyday!” after her.

Anya glanced over her shoulder and smiled again before hurrying on. The woman had looked so genuine, so hopeful, that Anya almost felt bad for going to back to work She needed the money, though, and no amount of hope or sincerity was worth losing her job for.

No matter how pretty or charming the policewoman was.


	2. Interrogation

Anya wanted to scream and fight and escape when the police told her to follow. She had wanted to escape the whole way to the building, the whole time she was waiting, and the whole time they’d been marching her towards the office.

She'd wanted to escape since she'd woken up in the hospital, but it had been a long time since it had spiked so dramatically.

“The Deputy Commissioner wanted to speak with you,” was all one said when she had asked. It hadn’t eased her anxiety.

And now they’d opened the door, shut it, and left her there, staring across the tiny office at the uniform that was staring out the window. The tight bun of dark hair sat above a coat that broadened the woman's shoulders, although she was still unmistakably feminine. Anya could see the flash of a high cheekbone and full lips, pressed together in an expression of cold displeasure.

Anya shivered despite the heat of the office.

“It’s a remarkable city, our Leningrad,” an oddly familiar voice said coolly. “All those people down there, coming and going, creating a future for themselves - I stand at this window for hours, admiring them.” Her voice shifted from conversational to pleasantly menacing, and Anya felt a chill go down her spine. “And wondering why a few bad apples are getting up to mischief instead.” The officer leaned forward just enough to make a show of looking out the window, although Anya knew the woman was focused on her. “I can see all the way to the old Yusupov palace; funny business going on there.  _ Counter-revolutionary behavior _ , some would say.”

“Why was I brought here?” Anya asked, trying not to sound challenging.

“I thought you could tell me, comrade,” the woman purred, turning on her heel and striding towards Anya – and then stopping like she’d run into a wall. “You!” Her voice jumped up an octave in shock, and Anya stared at her with wide-eyed confusion. She looked familiar, but she couldn't place exactly how; Anya couldn’t think of a name, so perhaps they were strangers and had never really been introduced.

The woman was apparently thinking along the same lines, gesturing nervously to Anya and trying to smile. “The – the frightened little street sweeper –“ The officer reached up to smooth her hair back into the impeccable bun and then tugged her uniform into place, smiling brightly at Anya. “I’d begun to wonder if I’d ever see you again.” She laughed nervously and gestured to Anya. “I see you’ve stopped shaking, that’s good!”

Anya stared back for a moment, and then it clicked.  _ The officer from the other day _ . Bad luck seemed determined to get her.

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” she informed the officer. The truth didn’t matter in these situations; just being near the Yusupov palace was enough to condemn her if the wrong ears had head of it.

“I’m glad to see you again,” the officer said, as though she was in a different world and Anya's words hadn't reached her. She shook her head and tried to smile charmingly. Without the uniform, it might have worked. “Anya, am I right?”

And there went any goodwill – Anya froze entirely and felt her eyes widen even more. “How do you know my name?”

“The women who gave us a report mentioned it. They said you were sleeping under a bridge before you fell in with –“ She sighed. “- Dmitry and Vlad, am I correct?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anya said, aiming for hopelessness. The woman stared at her for a moment, and then nodded **slightly.**

“I’m Deputy Commissioner Galina Vaganova.” She put a hand on the small of Anya’s back and guided her gently towards a chair in front of the desk, and it felt like she had pressed a hot iron into Anya’s skin, despite all the layers of clothing. She fell into the chair a little too hard and collected herself as the officer – Vaganova – circled the desk and smiled before gesturing around them. “It’s the uniform and the office that makes the bad impression; I’m really not so bad,” she informed Anya, the tone of her voice implying this was a secret to be kept between them. Anya half-laughed, nervous still, and Vaganova smiled wider. “See? I have a sense of humor. A small one, but that’s better than none in these turbulent times.”

Anya nodded, but she couldn’t hold back the shiver that hit her. She wasn’t sure why this woman was pretending to be friendly. She wasn’t sure of anything about this situation except that it could end with her in front of a firing squad.

“You’re shaking again,” Vaganova commented, her smile slipping away. “A friendly cup of tea will warm us both –“

“What’s the charge?” Anya demanded, as the other woman poured tea. Vaganova, for her part, simply raised an eyebrow with a polite smile.

“There is no charge, and why should there be?” She moved around the table to hold out a cup of tea and Anya took it by rote, not drinking but cupping it. “You have a job, food on the table, your own place in the new order of things…”

At least she would die with warm fingers. She was realizing the flaw of sitting; Deputy Commissioner Vaganova was much taller than her, and was using it – and was apparently waiting for an answer.

“I’m very thankful,” she managed, and almost took a sip of tea to wet her throat, but froze when Vaganova spoke again.

“And that is why I’m warning you to leave your world of  _ make believe _ ,” she said, with a chilling calmness, “before it’s too late.” She tilted her head to the side with a brief smile. Anya felt her hand start shaking and returned the teacup to her lap.

“I don’t understand,” she said, the way any street sweeper called into a policeman’s office would. Vaganova could’ve been carved from ice when she replied.

“The legitimacy of this government will not be challenged, even by a street sweeper.” Her eyes bored into Anya’s and made Anya want to squirm, to run and escape. “If you really were who you’re pretending to be, they would kill you. Without hesitation.” Anya shivered again, and Vaganova unfroze some, gesturing to the whole of Anya again. “Only, you’re not. You cannot be. The Romanovs are gone, Anya. My family lived across the street from where they were held, and I can assure you they no longer exist.” She sighed and picked up her teacup. “My father made sure of that.”

Anya’s mind spun around a thousand times in a second as Vaganova took a sip of her tea. Her father had been part of the group that had killed the Tsar. No hope of sympathy from a woman who wore that as a badge of honor, especially if Vaganova realized Anya’s involvement with Vlad and Dmitry.

“Every little girl imagines being a princess,” she said carefully, parroting what Vlad had said to her.

“I never did,” Vaganova said with a small smile. “I never had the luxury.” She leaned back against the desk, stretching her long legs out in front of her, and Anya became suddenly aware that Vaganova was no longer wearing the long outdoor coat her uniform called for, and that she had something approximating a body under the coat. A nice one, if Anya was honest with herself, but that train of thought was derailed by Vaganova’s hand waving again. “Look what you’ve built for yourself, Anya. You’re strong, and beautiful –“ Anya felt a blush creep up her neck, but apparently the same was happening to Vaganova, and they both tacitly ignored it as Vaganova cleared her throat and Anya fixed her gaze on the officer’s boots, “A beautiful young Russian woman. You have a job, you’re part of the new order – why throw that away for a princess fantasy some conmen sold you?” Anya felt a cool hand touch her chin, coaxing her into looking up to meet Vaganova’s eyes. “If you need help,” Vaganova drew in a deep breath and then barreled on, “I would be glad to give it. I know how hard it can be for a young woman on her own, in these difficult times. Maybe you –“ She broke off and yanked her hand back like she had been burned. There was a moment of silence, then she murmured, “You haven’t drunk your tea.”

“I’m late for work as it is,” Anya said, which was only half a lie. She was confused by the officer, by her turbulent moods and lack of clear motivation.  _ The police are easy _ , Dmitry had told her.  _ Find out what they want and give it to them _ . But Vaganova didn’t seem to want anything except to warn Anya.

“Always in a hurry,” Vaganova commented, giving her a tense smile. Anya nodded, handing her teacup to the officer before standing up and brushing off her skirt.

“Thank you for your warning, comrade.”

“It’s Galina, please.” She held out a hand politely. “I hope we haven’t seen the last of each other.” Anya shook her hand, but Vaganova – Galina – didn’t let go, instead staring into Anya’s eyes with an intensity that had nothing to do with words, now. “Your eyes,” she murmured softly. “You could drown in them –“ She leaned a slight bit closer and Anya didn’t back away. She didn’t know the officer wanted, but she wasn’t afraid, not now that the interrogation seemed to be over. There were worse sights in Leningrad after all; Galina’s eyes were a soft brown that seemed so much more expressive as she widened them.  _ She’s beautiful _ , Anya didn’t quite think, and then Galina yanked backwards as though she could hear the unspoken thoughts.

“Be careful, comrade.” Galina hesitated, glanced down at her own hand. Anya followed her gaze and realized the officer was trembling, her hands shaking slightly, before they were tucked away behind her back. She gave Anya a shaky smile. “They’ll give you away,” she said, as though it took great effort.

_ Give me away? As what?  _ Vlad had commented on her eyes the moment they met; the ‘eyes of a princess’ he had called them. And if Galina had seen the Romanov children –

“May I go?” Anya demanded, before she started trembling too.

“Have I made myself clear?” Galina said, her voice carefully distant again.

“Yes, very.” Anya glanced up at her, and realized she wasn’t going to be shot today. “Thank you.”

“Then … we are done for today.”

Anya nodded slowly and spun on her heel, moving towards the door before Galina could come up with some new comment to detain her. She managed to slow to a normal pace before she had to walked through the lobby, her heart in her throat.

No part of what had just happened made sense. No part at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to message me on [tumblr](http://vampyrekatwrites.tumblr.com/)!


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